


My Hyacinth

by WriterWithNoName1



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alexios as deimos, Ancient Greece, Bisexuality, Comedy, Drama, Intercrural Sex, Internalized Homophobia, Kassandra is the best sister, M/M, Post-Canon, Repressed Memories, Romance, Slow Build, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-08-17 06:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16510835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterWithNoName1/pseuds/WriterWithNoName1
Summary: Kassandra takes her brother to Delphi on a sort of road trip, hoping to keep him out of trouble and meet her old friend Lykaon again. However, Alexios finds himself becoming attached to the mild mannered little healer... and he's not sure he likes it.





	1. Anithos

**Author's Note:**

> Please note this takes place post-game, so there will be some spoilers!

Kassandra knew she needed to take Alexios away.

Her brother – what a strange and new idea, to have one after so long – was proving to be troublesome, and could not stay much longer in Sparta; or else, blood might be shed.

At the very least, some pottery would get smashed.

Alexios broke things when he was in a temper, which was progress from breaking _people_ , but it wasn’t fair to _Mater_ that her house should be half destroyed in one of her son’s rages. Granted, she no longer dwelled their permanently, but it was still their childhood home.

The tension was high. Alexios just didn’t seem to know how to live with anyone other than himself and cowering, placating priests. He rattled around the house like a boulder, colliding with anyone and anything that got in his way.

Kassandra had hoped that Stentor would act as a good equaliser, maybe that they could wrestle out each other’s frustrations; but it was becoming perilous for the both of them. Neither backed down from a quarrel, and it often resorted to some sort of physical spat which occasionally escalated to something more dangerous. Bloody noses and bruised eyes were exchanged, but there was so much bad blood that the fighting only begat more fighting instead of easing the dispute.

Eventually _Mater_ forbid them to harm each other in her home, so they were reduced to circling each other like suspicious dogs; ready to bite at the other’s provocation. 

Nikolaos was too weary to intervene, but had enough spirit in him to get into verbal confrontations with his son. Alexios was all too happy to snap at his father, often belittling his choice to abandon his post, how his cowardice demeans in identity as a Spartan. If Stentor is present, he will leap to Nikolaos’ defence and soon all the men are bickering.

Kassandra does what she can. She tries to keep Alexios occupied, but there only so many errands she can send him on, and often she ends up following him in secret; just to make sure he doesn’t harm anyone. They spar, of course, but he bores easily of mere play.

He wants war, and no one will give it to him.

He is a weapon that is not being used.

Myrrine is endlessly patient. She is so relieved to have her children back that she seems to be able to forgive every transgression. She smoothes his hair and talks to him softly, as if he is a little bird who might fly away.

She is scared to lose him again, scared to lose them both.

Kassandra knows what she has planned will break her mother’s heart, but at least there is a promise they both will return this time.

“Where are you going to take me?”

They are on the roof. Ikaros circles over head, keeping a watchful eye out; Alexios looks up in mild distaste when the bird shrieks. He has never forgiven Kassandra’s eagle for an earlier insult, shitting on Alexios’ shoulder as he flew low on the hunt for mice.

He still wears the armour the cult gave him. Despite her efforts, Alexios will not part with it. 

“I thought maybe Phokis? I know you have a bad history with it but... Delphi is quite beautiful, and the temple of Apollo is worthy of a visit now that the false oracle no longer gives prophecies, and that the cult is gone.” Kassandra tries to sounds as casual as possible, not even looking at her brother as he takes a grape from a bowl that sits between them and eats it.

Alexios stares at her as if she’s grown a second head. “After everything we’ve been through, you want _me_ to go to that temple?”

It _is_ a little ridiculous, but Kassandra persists. “You should make peace with your past, Alexios. It might give you some... serenity.”

Alexios barks in laugh, clutching his belly. “That is bullshit!” He slaps his knee. “You are a terrible liar.”

“Think of it this way, little brother.” She says, eating another grape. “You’ll be out of this house, away from our parents and dear adoptive brother.”  

 _And_ , she thinks privately, _it will give me a chance to see an old friend._

Alexios is thinking about it, but the walls he has built around himself prevent her from clearly seeing in. “What if I don’t want to go on this... holiday of yours?”

Kassandra thins her lips, but then she shrugs. “Then I will go without you.”

Her brother looks offended, and puffs up like an angry cat. “You’d leave me here? With _them_?” 

It’s now Kassandra’s turn to scowl and huff. “Watch your tongue.” She will not have him insult their parents, despite the wrongs that have been done to them both.

She sighs, looking out at the horizon. “You’re grown Alexios, I can’t tell you what to do, if you want to stay then be my guest. But I’ll be out _there_ , having an adventure without you.”

Truly she knows Alexios would rather run himself through with Leonidas’ spear than be left out of any kind of fun to be had. He’s dreadfully bored here, she can tell, he needs this; and he knows it too.

But still, just to make sure, Kassandra sweetens the deal still. “And if you wish to tear up the countryside, there will be no one to stop you. There are only a few residents there, and wolves to hunt from what I remember.”

Alexios perks up, he lives for the hunt; so much so that the wildlife seems to flee from his footsteps. He has told Kassandra stories of being taken into the hills by the cult as a boy, tearing apart animals with his bare hands as part of his training.

It disturbed her, but when she pressed him for more, he shut down. In time, maybe, he will trust her enough to share more secrets.

She hates to think she might be bringing a dangerous and unstable power house to Delphi, but how is Alexios going to prove he has changed if he is never given the opportunity to show it?

There is a glint in her little brother’s eye, and for once, not a malicious one. “When shall we leave?” He asks.

Kassandra lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and saviours her victory. “Tomorrow. You’d best get packed.”

\---

“By the gods, Kassandra! I know he is your brother, but can you not do _something_ about him?” The old Greek declared, throwing his hands towards the sky.

Kassandra has come to love Barnabas like an uncle, and does not know where she would be without his help. Adrestia has become his wife, and he is protective of her to the point that Barnabas would give his life for the faithful old ship; and normally no one is stupid enough to come between a captain and his vessel.

Then there is Alexios.

His complaints reel off endlessly. The boards creak, the paint is chipping, the crew are idle and undisciplined, there are rats on board, and so on.

Kassandra knows what’s really going on; he is trying to displace his nervousness about being on open water with picking on Barnabas.

There is nowhere for him to flee, and nowhere to hide. Plus the rough waves of the previous night inflicted him with an embarrassing bout of sea sickness. It’s hard to look strong and imposing when one is vomiting one’s lunch over the side of a boat.

Although Kassandra understands his discomfort, she does not want to test the limits of her friend’s patience.

It is too far to swim to Phokis.

“I will try Barnabas, and thank you again for taking us back to Delphi.”

The edges of Barnabas’ mouth crinkle when he grins. “Do not thank me yet, Kassandra. We still have another day or so of sailing to do. And I may throw your brother overboard if he continues to stomp around my ship like a Minotaur.”

Kassandra throws back her head in laughter, and it catches the attention of Alexios, who has taken to sulking atop the mast. It’s quite something that it can bear his weight. When he scowls down, Kassandra sticks her tongue out at him.

He does the same, then goes back to glaring at the clouds.

“That would be funny to see, but I fear he may swim after us and tear the Adrestia apart with his bare hands.” She says.

Barnabas looks a little pale. He is familiar with the power of Deimos, and wisely is nervous; though Kassandra has tried to assure him that Alexios is on a better path now.

 She hopes.

There is a piercing cry overhead, and an unholy roar from Alexios that makes the entire crew jump.

“FUCK, KASSANDRA, YOUR BIRD SHAT ON ME AGAIN!”

Ikaros barely manages to evade Alexios’ sword as he holds it aloft and swipes it in the air where the eagle soars. She wonders if they will ever reconcile their differences.

Barnabas looks somewhat grim, and pats Kassandra on the shoulder. “I’ll make an offering at the temple when we arrive, and pray for you.”

All she can do in response is smile tiredly in gratitude, but thinks that not even divine intervention could keep her brother out of mischief.


	2. Maratho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you ever look at someone and go HUSBAND, yeah, I think Alexios is getting that feeling XD
> 
> Also note that in this version of events Kassandra and Lykoan have not slept together, but are just good friends.

 

 Their arrival in Phokis is mercifully uneventful, and Kassandra thinks perhaps the gods might be on their side after all. They could certainly do with some compensation after all their family has been wrong.

Alexios almost leaps from the ship in his haste to get away from the sea, finding a sturdy rock on the shore and clinging to it; just in case the ocean should sneak up and try to claim him.

Kassandra says her farewells to Barnabas and the crew of the Adrestia for now, he will return for them when his business is finished within a fortnight.

She smirks and lifts her green faced brother up. “Come, little brother, we had best find somewhere to stay.” She knows there are several inns in the city, and it would be preferable to have an actual bed than sleeping in a tree.

Alexios swats away her hand. “Stop touching me.” He growls.

Kassandra rolls her eyes and takes the lead, leaving her brother to pout behind her. The bustling core of Pilgram’s Landing is a bit of a hike from the docks, but she thinks Alexios could do with the fresh air and walk to clear his head; occasionally she looks back to make sure he is following, Kassandra would hate to lose track of him now.

It is not a market day, so the crowds are minimal, but the temples attract tourists and religious pilgrims all year round. Today is no exception, Kassandra can tell from the hodgepodge of people in various regional clothes that the voice of Apollo still calls people from far and wide. The weather is also good, which hurries in the travellers.

As their pace becomes less urgent, they are able to talk; although Alexios’ conversation skills are in need of work.

“I want to meet a friend in the Chora of Delphi.” Kassandra explains, guiding him through the streets.  “But that is still a bit of a trek in land, I don’t think we’ll make it there in one day.”

Alexios huffs. “And who is this friend? Not an Oracle I hope.”

Kassandra snorts. “Gods no, I’ve had enough of Oracles. He is a healer.”

Her brother looks somewhat incredulous. “A healer? Are you sick?”       

She smirks back at him, like a cat. “No, but _you_ look sick.”

It’s true, despite not being nauseous anymore; Alexios still hasn’t come back to his normal pallor. He groans and rubs his eyes. “I _hate_ boats.”

Kassandra clicks her tongue at him. “Would you rather have swam? Or have Ikaros carry you? Though I don’t think he would have been strong enough.”

The mention of the hated bird prickles Alexios, and Kassandra can see he is on his way to some sort of stress fuelled murder spree; if the twinge in his jaw is anything to go by.

Thinking quickly, she changes the subject. “Do you like olives? I will show you the olive groves; I promise you have never seen so many.”

Alexios looks at her, as dry as the Egyptian desert. “I’m _Greek_ , of course I like olives.”

“ _Malaka_! Will you cheer up already?!” She leaps on him, pouncing skilfully and they scuffle. Alexios yelps, caught off guard, and then proceeds to bare his teeth like an animal.

As the two siblings wrestle, they attract a bit of attention, some children gather around and start placing bets.

“I bet two drachmae on the male warrior!”

“Please! The lady is clearly the better fighter, she’s just being nice.”

The hour is late by the time they reach an inn halfway between Pilgrim’s Landing and the Chora of Delphi. They’ve had to hire horses to cover ground quicker, but it would be unfair to make the beasts carry them and their gear throughout the night without a rest.

Alexios has been given a sturdy, if somewhat flatulent black gelding, suitably named Zephyr. Meanwhile Kassandra has a brown and white speckled mare who is a little on the chubby side.

They couldn’t afford to waste money, so this was the best they could get.

They have their horses stabled at a little boarding house just nestled in the Delphi countryside, a scenic sight if there ever was one. The place is decorated with local flora, and has its one alter dedicated to Apollo, just in case visitors can’t wait till they reach the temple before making an offering.

The room they share is small, but functional, and Kassandra doesn’t plan on doing much more than simply sleeping, in any case. Once the candles are out, she dozes off almost instantly, leaving her brother to be visited by Hypnos in his own time.

However, at a little past midnight, something wakes her.

Years of living on her wits have made Kassandra a light sleeper, so she is up in an instant; then she listens carefully, and squints into the darkness.

But it is not an assassin that has awoken her.

Alexios is crying quietly in his sleep.

At first, Kassandra thinks maybe she is mishearing, but soon the sniffles and moans coming from the bed next to hers confirms it.

Concern washes over her and she creeps over, to try and wake Alexios from his slumber. “Alexios....it’s only a dream....”

She makes the mistake of touching his shoulder.

The blade is at her throat in seconds, and it is by some miracle that he does not take her head right off.

“...Kassandra?” He asks, small and uncertain, so unlike him.

“Yes, little brother.” She takes his arm by the wrist and lowers it. “You’re safe, everything is fine.”

Alexios’ arm falls onto the covers with a thump. “No it isn’t...” There is a deep melancholy in his voice and it almost breaks Kassandra’s heart to hear him.

Without thinking, she climbs into the bed next to him and encourages him to shuffle along so they can both fit.

“What are you doing?” He demands, but Kassandra turns her back to him.

“Hush, and go back to sleep.”

\----

Neither of them speaks of what happened the night before, and eat their morning meal in tense, uncertain silence.

Alexios only wishes to forget it happened, and curses himself thrice for showing weakness in front of his sister. Better her of course than a stranger, or worse, one of his other ‘family’ members; but he is still filled with shame.

He rides, tight lipped, a storm cloud hovering over his head as if Zeus himself has put it there. He is tired of this, tired of his excursion Kassandra has dragged him on, and would love nothing more than to find someone at the gymnasium to throw into a pillar.

Maybe more than one, and they will all cower before his superior might. No on stands a chance in Hades against him.

Eventually, they pass into the Chora of Delphi, and Kassandra urges her horse to a cantor; they are getting close. Whoever this healer friend is, she clearly is keen to see him.

She smiles when she spies a house, modest and unremarkable save for some sort of tent arrangement in the front most yard. This must be where this mysterious man does his healing; he clearly works out of his own home, the scent of powdered herbs wafts in on the breeze like a floral arrangement.

There is a soft clatter of pots inside the dwelling, and Kassandra jumps from her mare and over to the threshold.

Alexios dismounts at a slower pace, and turns to see a man step into the sunlight.

He is clad in soft purple, like the Hyacinth flower, with soft brown hair that curls at the end; and a thick beard that falls from his jaw in waves.

Alexios stills.

“Kassandra?" The man says, opening his arms and smiling like spring time. His voice is lightly melodic, and glides through the air. "Could it be?"

"Lykaon." He and Kassandra embrace heartily. "Yes it is I, the one and only."

Alexios raises a brow, and she says he’s the one with the ego.

Lykaon looks her all over, as if inspecting for injuries, the old habits of a healer no doubt. His eyes lack any sort of sharpness or ill intent.

 _Weakness_ , his mind whispers. Alexios decides that he dislikes the man, and hangs back from them both.

"It has been many months passed since we saw each other..."  Lykaon says wistfully. "I thought of you often, I wondered what great adventures you must be having.”

Kassandra scratches the back of her neck with an uneasy chuckle. "You have no idea."

Then, to Alexios mild horror, Lykaon looks past Kassandra and directly at him. He feels a strange urge to flee that he cannot explain.

"Who is this you've brought with you?"  He asks, curiously, taking a step towards Alexios.

Alexios wills with all his power not to take a step back.

"Oh, him." Kassandra flips a hand towards Alexios as if he were a stray dog that has followed her up the path. "That is my brother, Alexios. But he can speak for himself, can't you?"

He stiffens, and says in a curt voice. "I don't have anything to say to a healer."

Lykaon doesn’t seem offended whatsoever, and that _bothers_ Alexios. "Yes, I can clearly see you are in no need of healing. You have such a strong, imposing figure."

He can feel himself going red, but covers it with preening and puffs out his chest. "I have the blood of the gods in me."

"Really?" Lykaon asks, and looks at the brother and sister, slightly in awe."Quite a pair of blessed siblings, indeed."

Kassandra of course, has to ruin everything. "Don't believe him Lykaon, he's just saying that to get you to like him." And finishes it off with a wink.

That makes Alexios burn with embarrassment, that he would go out of his way to try and _impress_ this meek little stranger. Kassandra has forgotten herself.

"Fuck you!" He spits, enraged, then storms away in an angry dust cloud back to the horses and ignores all attempts by his sister to call him back.

He should have stayed in Sparta.


	3. Daphni

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Om nom, tasty man flesh.

Kassandra watches her brother depart in a dramatic temper, and knows better than to pursue him now. She is embarrassed on his behalf, and turns to her friend with an exasperated expression. "I'm... sorry for him, Lykaon. He has... been through a lot. He lived a violent life; he hasn't learned how to be around people yet."

It’s difficult to explain without giving too much of their story away, Alexios’ part is not hers to tell; especially not to what is a complete stranger to him. Although he is behaving like an ass, Kassandra respects him enough to protect Akexios’ privacy.

Lykaon follows Alexios out with his eyes, concern etched into his dark, almond shaped eyes."But you are teaching him?" He says, turning to her. "That is a kind thing to do."

Kassandra smiles a little, she had missed the healer; his tendency to try and see the best in every possible situation. He tried to do what was right for all, even if it meant almost killing his grandmother when he and Kassandra first met many months ago.

But it hadn’t been out of spite or sheer revenge, but because he was burdened by his grandmother’s misdeeds and wanted to deliver a kind of justice by correcting them with her death. Even then, he had planned to kill her quietly and painlessly; as kindly as he could, as kindly as Praxithea deserved.

"He's family; I can't give up on him." Kassandra explains.  She’s fought so hard to get him back; she intends to keep Alexios.

A moment of sadness passes over Lykaon’s face. "Yes... family is important."

She remembers too late that the healer is alone in the world. His parents perished when he was young, and then he only had his sister and grandmother. But they lived in the shadow of Praxithea’s false prophecies, and have not yet mended despite her repentance.

"How is your grandmother?" she asks as a way of stirring the conversation along.

Lykaon looks graver still, and Kassandra kicks herself mentally. "Ill. She's... coming to the end of her life." He lets out a small, somewhat bitter laugh."After everything... I needed only to have waited."

Silence, weighty with things unsaid, falls until Lykaon speaks softly, almost to himself. "Am I wicked for saying that?"

Kassanda immediately grips his arm, supporting him. "No. You were only trying to do what you thought was best." And she truly believes it.

Lykaon has a slight sheen over his eyes, but he blinks it away. "Are you staying in Delphi long?"

“A week or two.” Kassandra says, counting the days in her head till the Adrestia returns.

"I see." Lykaon nodded. "Well, I’m afraid I must return to my duties. I have some herbs to gather... the blessings of Apollo go with you.” He embraces Kassandra again, and she wonders if she should really leave him now; but Kassanda doesn’t want to force her presence on him.

"Thank you. I will."

They share an affectionate hand clasp before she makes her way back up the slope away from Lykaon’s abode.

He waves. " _Chaire_ , Kassandra."

She waves back. " _Chaire_ , Lykoan."

Though her spirits have lightened considerable, Kassandra sets her eyes on her brother and her mood is soured. He is sitting cross legged on a flat slab of rock, his face turned upward towards the sun.

She strides over and punches him in the arm. Alexios makes an offended grunt. "What was that for?"

"Gods preserve me! _Malaka!_ Are you going to do that to every person we meet?" She demands.

Alexios feigns innocence."Do what?"

She glares. "You know what."

Alexios throws both arms in the air as if he is saluting the gods. "No, I don't! I can't read minds!"

With a growl, Kassandra turns her back to him, her braided hair tossing like an angry mane. "Forget it, Alexios! Maybe you are a lost cause after all."

As soon as she says the words, she regrets them, as Alexios rises and comes to roar in her face; his hurt and anger burning bright. "I never asked for anything! I never asked you to bring me here!"

Furious, he leaves her standing by the horses and runs into the brush. "Wait- Alexios, I misspoke-"

"Leave me alone!"

\--------

The countryside of Delphi is indeed breathtaking, but Alexios has never taken the time to stop and enjoy such things. In his fury all he can think of is how he’d like to render the land apart with his bare hands; to make the earth tremble and quake.

He settled for stomping on foliage and making rabbits flee into their burrows , and birds take startled flight into the air.

For a while, everything is painfully quiet. He has made nature itself fall into hush, but it gives him no satisfaction.

Alexios is covered in sweat from his outburst, feeling the sun beating down on him now in his armour.

Soon, it becomes nearly unbearable, and he goes in search of a river.

He comes to a stream, which offers some light relief from the heat. As he walks down the banks, some stones roll out from under his feet and fall into the water; the slopes here are steep, which only have a sparse covering of grass.

Alexios splashes his face, and feels better for it. Then as he washes his arms, he hears the cry of an animal not too far away. It is a guttural, growling sound, not quite a howl.

Immediately he is on guard; Kassandra had mentioned wolves. He unsheathes his sword and squints through the trees to try and make out any dark shapes stalking him; he finds none.

But the noise continues.

Alexios rises and slowly picks his way through the undergrowth, hoping to find what could have stirred up a wolf pack to such a degree. What he finds chills his bones.

Four wolves, a she wolf and her almost grown pups have trapped someone on a stony ledge above the stream.  The man’s back is pressed against a sheer cliff face, with no hope of escape on any side. His clothes had been torn and his pale shoulders covered in the claw marks of the wolves scrambling for his neck.

In one shaking hand, he holds a pitiful knife, the blade no longer than one of Alexios’ fingers.

It’s Lykaon.

From his vantage point, Alexios can see the terror in the healer’s face, and his lips move in a hurried mumble; one last prayer to the gods before he is devoured.

The wolves are too distracted to notice his approach, and he stays downwind just in case.

His sword pierces the skull of one of the pups like it’s made off soft leather, and comes free covered in blood and brain matter. The other three round on him, with the she wolf snarling and frothing.

Another makes a hasty attack but Alexios cuts it open across the throat and watches it slump over with great satisfaction.

But the remaining pup uses his lapse of attention to its advantage; it slinks around behind him and charges; sinking its jaws into the flesh of his calf. Alexios lets out a great cry of pain and fury, grabbing the wolf by the scruff and slitting its throat as it chews away at his leg.

Only the she-wolf remains, but she holds back, and seems to be aware that she has been beaten.

Still standing despite the agony, Alexios points his sword at her. "Be gone, or I'll make a carpet out of you."

With one last growl, the she-wolf turns and disappears into the woods.

Finally, Alexios collapses, clutching his gushing wound.

Lykoan, who stayed silent throughout the fight, rushes to his side and kneels there."Alexios. By Apollo!" He is drawn and pale, and goes to examine Alexios’ hurt. "Hold still, I can help you."

Alexios shoves him back. "I don't need your help!" He barks, and then comes to a realisation. "This... this is your fault. How can you be so helpless? And what kind of man doesn’t carry a real knife?!"

Lykaon is a little stunned by his ire, but doesn’t shrink back. "It’s only to cut herbs with. I have sworn an oath to do no harm to anyone."

"Even when someone wishes to harm _you?_ " Alexios scoffed. "I've never heard of anything quite so-!"

He gripped his leg, and hissed as the wound throbbed.

"Please, Alexios." Lykaon begged earnestly."I don't wish you to hurt your pride... but this would is deep, and will become worse if it's not treated." He explained. "The mouth of a wolf is filthy. You may get sick from this, and the blood of the gods might not be enough to save you from infection."

Alexios almost gapes at him. "How dare you speak to me like that!”

Lykaon cuts him off swiftly. “These are the words of a healer.” Then, after a moment, he adds “And a friend.”

Alexios sneers. “I don’t know you.”

“You don’t have to.” Lykaon pleads, putting a hand on Alexios’ breast. “Just trust me.”

Alexios opens his mouth again to argue, but he’s starting to feel the fatigue brought on by his sluggishly bleeding leg wound; the pain burns from his calf all the way up his thigh.

He grits his teeth.“Fine.”

Lykaon looks relieved, and lifts Alexios with care, taking one of his arms over his shoulders. “Take it slowly, one step at a time.”


	4. Dyosmos

Kassandra senses something is very wrong.

Alexios does not return to their lodgings, nor is he skulking around the market place. Kassandra asks the merchants in any case if they have seen him, and gets a firm no. Alexios is not exactly difficult to spot, and usually leaves a trail of destruction in his wake when he’s angered; so the lack of _any_ sort of sign of him is troubling.

Eventually, Kassandra sends her faithful Ikaros into the sky to get a better view of things, and follows his flight away from civilisation into the dusty countryside; the houses becoming smaller and smaller behind her.

Kassandra watches him circle, and then the bird descends to perch on an olive tree.

She hurries to meet him, hoping he has found Alexios. Instead, the ground beneath the tree is smeared with blood; trod in by footprints leading toward it, and then away. There is no other signs of life, no body, not even the faint chirping of songbirds.

Her throat tightens, and follows the trail to wherever he might lead her. Although her belief in the divine wisdom of the Gods has well and truly been shaken, she still says a quiet prayer for Alexios’ protection. Whatever has happened, it’s out of her hands.

Soon, she realises that the blood is guiding her in the direction of Lykaon’s house; and she is unsure whether to be relieved or horrified.

Kassandra runs down the slope and bursts in, not bothering to ascertain whether someone is there.

“Lykaon?! Alexios?!”  She calls, half frantic, looking all around.

The healer is there, and she is glad, but he is too busy bent over a body lying on a wooden table to look up and acknowledge her. Sweat beads down his neck.

Peering past him, Kassandra sees it is Alexios and her heart skids almost to a stop. Thankfully, he appears to be breathing and moving; bleeding, yes, but still very much alive.

At once, she is at his side. “What happened?”

“Wolves.” Lykaon is steadily sewing up a large wound on Alexios’ leg, and appears halfway done, but he seems to be struggling a little as the laceration continues to gush. “Please, can you hold him down like so- I must repair this wound.”

For his part, Alexios is impeding his own mending by squirming on the table top; writhing from pain and confusion caused by blood loss.

She places both hands on his shoulders and looks down into his wide, slightly glassy brown eyes. “Easy, Alexios.” Kassandra soothes, feeling his racing pulse as her hands graze a vein in his neck.

She then turns to Lykaon in astonishment. “Wolves attacked you? _Again?_ ”

“This has happened before?” Both Lykaon and Kassandra look over in surprise at Alexios’ attempt at talking; it shows that he is not near death at least.

Kassandra grits her teeth. “Yes, and I killed them all!”

Lykaon looks sheepish. “Not all, it seems. It’s been happening more and more... people are too afraid to let their animals drink from that stream, in fear of being attacked.”

She is about to ask more questions, when Alexios suddenly jolts under her hands; arching his back like an enraged horse. “ _Malaka!_ Careful with that needle!”

Lykaon wipes sweat from his brow with his forearm, and looks suitably regretful. “Apologies... not much longer...”

He sews as swiftly as he can, and Kassandra watches half-mesmerised as the needle disappears again and again into Alexios’ flesh; as if Lykaon is stitching a tunic or a tapestry, weaving her brother’s skin as skilfully as Arachne herself.

The healer begins muttering to himself as he works. “I wouldn’t have gone... but I need those herbs that grow there for my patients.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, I could have helped!” Kassandra demands.

Lykaon shakes his head. “I didn’t want to put you in danger for me, again.” His body barely contains a shudder, which thankfully Alexios doesn’t feel at the end of the needle. “These wolves... they seem to hunger for human flesh, they’re unnatural, Kassandra.”

Her brother stirs  and grunts, Kassandra strokes his fringe like their _Mater_ does when he’s enraged. “Alexios, shh... he’s trying to help you.”

His face has taken on a wax-like colour, and Kassandra can hear his teeth grinding in his efforts to stifle his cries. “Give me something. For the pain.” He growls.

Kassandra thinks of offering him a drink from her wineskin, but hesitates; her eyes flicker over to Lykaon, to gage what his opinion is.

The healer thins his lips, pausing for a moment in his mending. “It will take time to take effect... and this wound needs to be closed.”

Alexios lets out a noise of displeasure, but Kassandra knows better than to question the judgement of her old friend. She merely grips Alexos’ hand, tight. “Better do it quickly, then.”

The time seems to slip by excruciatingly slowly, and Kassandra feels incredibly helpless; only able to offer some semblance of comfort to Alexios as the operation drags on. Finally, Lykaon cuts the thread with a knife and it is done, at last.  

“This is the most I can do for now, we will have to wait and see how it heals.” Lykaon washes his arms and hands, the water in the bucket he bathes in turning a bright crimson.

His ordeal over, Alexois raises his head and snarls at his saviour with malice. “Wine. _Now_.”

Lykaon nods and fetches an amphora from his personal pantry, which he uncorks and pours out the dark, rich wine for the other man without letting it breathe.

Alexios seizes the cup offered to him and gulps it; his adams apple bobbing up and down in his throat like fruit in water.

Kassandra is pleased he seems to be recovering from the shock, but does not take kindly to his tone. “Lykaon just saved your life!”

Her brother lets out a hoarse bark of laughter. “Hah! It was _I_ that saved _him!_ ”

“It’s true.” Lykaon admits, humbling himself. “I would have been in the belly of that she-wolf if not for Alexios.”

Kassandra’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, and she gives Alexios a long look. “Really?”

In response, he gives her a weak snarl.

 _Well._ She thinks to herself, covering a smirk with the back of her hand. _That is new._

A soft clatter of dishes alerts them both to the fact that Lykaon has briefly slipped away, and from the sound and smell of things, he’s crushing herbs for Alexios.

He returns with what looks like sea sludge, which has a rather pungent odour to it. Both Kassandra and Alexios cringe.

“I now need to cover the wound with ointment.” Lykaon explains, approaching Alexios with the same caution one would give a lion with a sore head.

The man on the table stiffens, and fixes Lykaon with a look that suggests he might eat him if he takes another step closer.

Lykaon counters with the softest, calmest of expressions; more at home on a harmless lamb. “It’ll help, I promise.”

With a great sigh, Alexios lies back and relented; although the muscles in his jaw worked as if he is chewing on stones.

Kassandra was not able to pull Lykaon aside until after this final task was done, and her brother was left to drift off into a natural sleep; the stress and exhaustion winning the battle in the end.

“Tell me more about these wolves.” She asks, frowning. “Is it one pack in particular?”

“I’m not sure, there seems to be dozens of them...” Lykaon speaks in a hushed whisper, and looks about him in worry, as if someone may be listening. The cult’s presence in these lands has left a permanent mark. “No matter how many times someone catches or kills one, more appear as if from nowhere.”

Kassandra rubs her knuckles against her chin in thought. “And they only attack people?”

“Yes... they have a thirst for blood.” The healer goes on, holding his hands open in a gesture of hopelessness. “We tried offering other morsels to them, even live goats! They ignored them.”

That is odd, and Kassandra knows wolves. In truth, they are cowardly when it comes to risk; scavengers if the opportunity arises. Surely then, a helpless livestock animal offered as a sacrifice would be of greater interest than a human being; it’s just strikes Kassandra as very strange indeed.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this.” She assures him, then, with a confident smile Kassandra gives her friend a hearty pat on the back. “I’m not afraid of wolves.”

Lykaon lets out a soft whoosh of air from his lungs, and Kassandra gives him a lighter tap on the shoulder in apology; momentarily forgetting he was not as robust as Alexios or she.

He places his hand above her own and looks earnestly into her eyes. “Please be careful Kassandra...”

With little time before the sun sets, Kassandra knows she should not linger if she wants to have any chance of discovering the truth behind the wolves’ queer behaviour. She might be able to track the remnants of the pack that cornered Alexios and Lykaon, but Kassandra needs to move now.

“Look after my brother.” She says to Lykaon, winking, and then departs as swiftly as an eagle’s shadow from the healer’s house, and makes for the slopes.

She turns and flees too quick to see Lykaon blush a faint rosy pink.


	5. Vasilikos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for gross dead bodies guys.

The sunlight passing across Alexios’ face caused him to stir from his deep, drug induced sleep. His mouth and throat were dry, begging for water. Blinking, he had only a few moments of tired confusion before a blurred shape at the end of his bed took fully realised form; it was Lykaon, with his back to Alexios, doing something to his leg.

The warrior grunted sharply and tried to rise, but white hot pain shot up his thigh.

Lykaon turned, his soft features creasing with worry. He put out a hand and rests it over Alexios’ heart, managing to push him back down. “Ah, Alexios.” He says, in a low voice. “Calm, my friend, I was only checking your stitches.”

Alexios is already in a sour mood. “I’m not your friend.” He snaps. “How long have I been here?”

If Lykaon is bothered at all by his outburst, he doesn’t let it show. “I let you sleep through the night, its mid morning now.” He explains.

Glancing around, Alexios can see he has been moved inside of Lykaon’s abode, to a small bedroom that barely fits the bed he’s lying on; it feels cramped with the two of them here.

“How do you feel?” Lykaon inquired seriously.

What a stupid question.

“Like dog shit.” Alexios groans.

“Any pain?” Lykaon probes.

His patient stares dryly at him.“My _leg_.”

Lykoan chuckles lightly, his laughter ringing like a little silver bell. “Do you hurt anywhere else? Do you feel hot? Or dizzy?”

Alexios thinks for a solid ten seconds before answering. “My head hurts from all your talking.”

That manages to dent into Lykaon’s cheerful visage, but it isn’t as satisfying as Alexios thought it would be. “I’m sorry, I’ll try to amend that.”

Having had enough of this, Alexios made another attempt to rise, but the pain stopped him. “Ai! Zeus’ balls!”

“Please don’t get up.” Lykaon almost begged, rushing to gently guide Alexios back into a laying position. “The stitches are delicate, if you move too much then you will tear them.”

“Then I am stuck here?” Alexios asked, horrified by the idea. Snarling, he thumbed a fist against his pallet; making it shake. “Malaka! What am I supposed to do?”

The healer scratched the back of his neck, his brow creasing in consideration. “Well, I can keep you company.”

“Wonderful.” Alexios turned his head, expecting to see his sister hovering nearby with an amused expression; but she was nowhere to be found. That didn’t sit right with him. “Where is Kassandra?”

“She’s gone to find out why the wolves in Delphi are killing so many people.” Lykaon explained, then, looked wistfully out of a window and added, “I hope she finds something.”

“She went alone?!” Alexios barked, now infuriated, but totally unable to go anywhere.

The healer held up his hands, open palms displaying his helplessness. “Kassandra knows her own mind; I could not stop her, Alexios.”

Grumbling, Alexios was forced to swallow that; he knew it was true, not even chains made by Hephaestus himself could stop Kassandra from going where she wished too.

A couple of moments passed in tight silence, and as Alexios stared up at the rafters the true reality of his situation sank slowly into him. “How long will I have to stay here for?” He asked, wearily.

“A few days, just so the wound settles, then you can start moving again.” Lykaon let a hand fall on Alexios’ good thigh and gave it a squeeze; Alexios pretended not to notice.

“...are you hungry at all?” Lykaon inquired.

Alexios scowled. “No.”

Lykaon looked a little downtrodden, but tried again. “Food promotes healing.”

His persistence was admirable, and the warrior was too tired to keep protesting. “Don’t wheedle.” He said. “I’ll have some broth if you can manage that.”

The healer seemed pleased, and scurried away to cook, which left Alexios alone with his thoughts. He wondered how Kassandra was doing, and was bitter at being left behind; though he knew logically it was impossible for him to follow her.

Nevertheless, she could have at least _waited_ till he had woken up. When Lykaon finally returned with a bowl of steaming soup, Alexios found himself to be ravenous; but unwilling to show weakness, he ate slowly and carefully.

“This isn’t bad, healer.” He admitted, swallowing a mouthful.

Lykaon perked up. “Thank you, my grandmother-” A flicker of something passed over his face, the gladness in his eyes died like a stifled flame. “She taught me... how to cook.”

From his tone, Alexios assumed the old woman was no more. “Did she die?”

“No... but she’s sick.” The healer seemed to shrink, to wither on the spot as he spoke. “Very sick, my sister and I are preparing for her burial.”

Alexios shrugged. “Old people die.” When he looked up, Lykaon was turned slightly away from him; a thin sheet of moisture collecting over his eyes glistened in a stray beam of sunlight.

“...we’re all going to die eventually.” The healer murmured, looking about as forlorn as a sparrow in the rain.

It was pathetic, to be so stricken over someone who was going to die anyway. And yet, Alexios regarded the saddened figure of the healer with regret; he hadn’t _intended_ to cause upset, it just seemed to happen on its own.

He coughed, awkwardly, and tried to change the subject. “The soup really is good.”

Lykaon turns back around, and smiles, just a little. “Thank you, Alexios.”

\----

The bodies of the wolf cubs didn’t reveal much to Kassandra, only that they seemed well fed. And they would, if they’d been feasting on the flesh of human beings; who could not out run or out fight a wolf pack.

It was pretty bold of them to attack in daylight, which confirmed her suspicions; they had no fear of humans, so why bother using the cover of darkness when men were such easy prey?

Kassandra decided t hunt down their den, hoping it would be nearby. She discovered old tracks, and followed them cautiously back through a winding trail in the sparse forest. Ikaros screeched from overhead, shadowing her every move.

Soon, Kassandra noticed a horrid scent lingering in the air. It was putrid, carried on a light breeze which she was downwind of.

She wrinkled her nose. “Ugh... by the gods, that is some odor...”

As she walked, the smell only grew worse, till she arrived at the mouth of a rocky cave. Kassandra paused, and stared into the dark pit, uncertainty curling tightly in her belly.

Ikaros chose that opportunity to land on a boulder, tilting his head at her as if to say ‘what are you waiting for?’

She sighed. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

Ikaros gave no answer.

Kassandra pressed the crook of her elbow over her nose as she stepped forward into the cavern, and not too far in she came across several bodies. They were all men, all in various states of decomposition, and all partially eaten.

The sight deeply unnerved her, to think that these people had been left to rot, unburied, the rights of the dead ignored.

Kneeling, she examined the closest corpse. Although part of his face had been devoured, the neck was still intact; and looked as though it had been cleanly cut with a knife.

Morbidly curious, she checked the other bodies; those that had not been completely eaten. She began to see a pattern of injuries, all deadly, and none inflicted by the wolves.

“Malaka...” She mumbled. “Nothing can ever be simple, can it?”


End file.
